Текст песни Лора Бочарова - Король мертвых

Hurry, hurry, close the doors of your houses!
You hear a throat creeping fear
And someone rushing shadows on the hills,
What is closer to the other herbs churchyard,
And crumble mist took their luster,
And those who come, have already signaled,
He moves as part of the moss Steel Dagger.
You hear the ringing of his gait?

There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!

He leads a ghostly army followed suit,
To those who have changed, could keep a vow.
And there is no memory limit, and there is no death,
And faith in the word - no more than a fetish.
And the heavens shall drop their hoarse cry of crows
On rare corroded their teeth crowns.
Having handed in his chest involuntary groan
You could be among them, because you believe:

There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!

And bound like a vise, his cold mouth
That horror, that spreads to the rotten swamps.
And everyone who sees that it is the turn,
His eyes are wide open.
And in them dying laughing singing metal,
Blurring the shadow of the curse with the destruction of rocks.
Fish the delight of their pupils broken mirrors,
You can die, because you know:

There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!
There is a king of the dead!